It was nearing evening when the bus that ran past 311 Lysgar ground to a noisy halt. Gin stood and pulled his bags from where they'd been stuffed under seats and shoved into overhead storage. So this was it ( Read more... )

It had been a strange day ( Read more... )

None of this had been his fault. The grease, the burn, and now the sudden and extremely undesired arrival of an exploding pus-bomb on the top of his right hand. If he'd only lifted his hand onto the counter two seconds earlier, then when that bastard ran into him he would have only gotten his hips crushed against the counter and not the burn. Which ( Read more... )

The gentle "whirr" of an engine for the fifteen minutes' ride from his ex-dormitory to his new residence had left Hanatarou standing ice cold with a quartet of boxes, a military medic satchel, and an obviously well-aged bicycle. After some second, third, even fourth thoughts, and a quick check to see if his buddy from the university was still ( Read more... )